A collection of shorts
by Maxwell-Yuy
Summary: To get back in the swing of writing Perfection of 02, I'm posting a series of shorts, starting with Duo's birthday to keep creative juices flowing. I don't promise any story magic. Randomness. Eventual 1x2.
1. The Big 21

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. And these short stories are not meant to be great, they're just meant to be fluff. Whatever I'm thinking in passing. I wrote it in fifteen minutes.

Title: The Big 2-1

By: Maxwell-Yuy

Pushing overcooked lasagna around his plate, Duo sat in the Preventers Cafeteria with one elbow propped up on the table, head in hand, thinking about how wrong it was for tomato sauce to be sweet. He didn't hear his friends talking, or the questions directed his way.

But then he was forked in the arm.

"Argh!" He turned to his offender. "What gives, Quatre?"

"I was asking you a question."

"So?"

The blonde gave him the 'you've lost your mind' look, and raised an eyebrow. "I was asking you for five whole minutes!"

"Oh." Well, that was news. He looked at the others sitting with them and was met with a mixture of annoyed and amused glares from the other ex-gundam pilots. "So, uh, what's up?"

Quatre held up his fork, ready in case Duo decided not to answer. "What are you doing tonight?"

Perplexed, Duo gave Quatre a searching look. "Why?" When the fork advanced on him, he put up his hands in defense. "Hey! Watch it!" The fork steadied. "It's a Tuesday, Quat. I'm finishing my cases and I'm going home. What the hell else would I be doing?" He looked to the others for some kind of approval.

Lowering the fork and placing it back on the table, Quatre looked a little concerned and surprised. "Don't you know what day it is?"

When the others wore similarly surprised expressions, Duo began to panic. What did he forget? He couldn't remember making any plans. No major cases were pending and due before midnight. It wasn't a holiday. He didn't know of any events going on in the city he should attend. The movie he'd been waiting to see wouldn't be at the Arts Theater until Friday.

Duo was stumped. "I really don't know. It's, you know, TUESDAY."

Quatre smacked his forehead. Heero rolled his eyes. Trowa shook his head. Wu-Fei sighed. Duo looked terrified. "What?" he yelled in a panic, "what the hell am I missing here?"

"It's your freakin' birthday, Maxwell!" exclaimed an irritated chinese boy from across the table.

Duo took in a sharp breath, ready to contradict his friend's claim, only to hold his breath as he thought. After a moment, his brow furrowed and he tilted his head. "Well what do you know? It is my birthday!"

"You're twenty-first birthday," Trowa clarified.

"Huh," continued Duo, "I guess it is. Hey! Thanks for telling me!" With that, he stabbed a piece of his lasagna and put it in his mouth with a determination that all but said the conversation was over.

It wasn't over.

"Aren't you going to do something?" Quatre asked. "I figured you'd have plans. If I'd known you wouldn't, I'd have kept my schedule free. But I've got a business dinner with one of the board members from WEI."

Duo gave a half smile and threw an arm around his friend. "Aw, it's okay, Quat."

"No! It's not okay!" Quatre's anger scared Duo's arm away. "We've celebrated everyone's birthdays, even Heero's twenty-first had a party! You can't just do nothing!"

Duo was almost speechless. Almost. "Well it's not like we've never done it before. I mean, everyone here is older than me, I've been to my fare share of drunken mayhem parties."

"Do you hate your birthday? I don't recall us ever celebrating it."

That was the first time Heero had added his two cents to the conversation. Duo suddenly felt like a cornered animal. "No," he said, "I don't hate it per say. I've just had a string of crappy birthdays. And I've had three different ones! One with the gang, one with the church, and one with you guys. But every time it's either been downright shitty, the middle of a war, or some crazy mission gone wrong. I've been arrested, shot, sick, stuck in enemy territory, unconscious, kicked out onto the street, attending a funeral... you name it: if it sucks, I've spent my birthday doing it. So I just figure if I plan on nothing and don't tell anyone, maybe don't even remember myself, then it should be a nice, quiet day. It'll be the best birthday ever."

Everyone was glaring at him.

"That's the dumbest logic I've ever heard."

"Avoidance is weakness."

"Baka."

"Only you..."

Owch.

Duo swallowed a lump in his throat. He desperately wanted to leave, and realized that lunch would be over shortly. Thank goodness.

"Trowa is going with me to the meeting, but Wu-Fei and Heero could spend the evening with you."

Ah, how Quatre always wanted to make things right. And his definition of 'right' was whatever he thought was best.

"I have to go over some reports," Wu-Fei said with some regret. "Une's strict on her deadlines, and there's a debriefing in the morning."

When Heero said he was free, Duo's heart skipped. Spending the night with his best friend would be the best birthday gift ever. The last time they spent his birthday together was via closed-circuit communication while Duo was stuck undercover infiltrating an arms deal. That was a record setting birthday. It didn't go down as planned, and he had to shoot his way out before backup arrived. He spent that birthday undercover, in enemy territory, shot, unconscious, on the operating table, in the hospital, and ultimately with his friends. But as far as spending quality time with Heero, it didn't really count.

"How about dinner at Sakura's?" Heero had a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I'll meet you there at seven?"

Duo smiled. "Sounds great."

-------

He tapped his knife against the table. It wasn't like Heero to be late. Thirty whole minutes late. He'd have to add a new entry on his list of crappy things to happen on his birthday: getting stood up on a date. Not that it was a romantic date, but it was a dinner date nonetheless.

He signaled the waiter, who looked sympathetic, and paid for his drink before leaving. Part of him hoped Heero would show up just as he was leaving, and save the day like he'd saved Earth so many times before. But when it came to Heero, Duo was first and foremost rational. Heero wouldn't be racing around the corner calling his name and apologizing. He simply wouldn't be there at all.

What should have been a nice evening at home with a small home-cooked meal and a good book ended up a severely disappointing night. It had been a while since he and Heero had spent any time together outside of the office. He'd been looking forward to it. Lesson learned: don't get your hopes up.

By this time he was just depressed enough to not want to go home. Passing his car, he decided to take a walk around the city. Twilight was settling in, tucking away the sun and making room for the moon. And he loved the city at night. He 'walked the earth,' as Solo once put it, turning wherever and leisurely strolling along. He was sad, but found a solace in his melancholy that contented him.

By the time he got to his apartment building it was nearly 2:00 in the morning. His alarm would be going off to usher him to work in four hours. Pausing at the base of the stairs, he pulled out his cell phone and let out a heavy sigh. Heero never even called. But still, it was the best birthday he could remember. He was in one piece, even though his heart felt a little broken.

He turned his key in the lock and opened the door, flicking on the light-switch nearby that turned on the living room lights. He gasped.

In his living room were four sleeping ex-gundam pilots, lying in odd places wherever there was a sofa or chair. His coffee table had various bottles of alcohol, some of which were opened, which explained the glasses by each sleeping young man. In the joined dining room he saw his first ever birthday cake, resting with unlit candles and slightly sloppy, melted frosting. There were four packages neatly wrapped and stacked behind it, and some balloons tied to the back of a chair that were sagging a little from loss of helium.

He smiled faintly. They wanted to surprise him, and he'd gone and ruined it by spending the night 'walking the earth.' But it was still the nicest thing anyone had done for him in a long time. And Heero hadn't stood him up after all. It warmed his heart.

Ever the stealth agent, he turned off the lights and silently made his way down the hall to the linen closet. He pulled out spare blankets, and one by one covered his friends. He then went to his room, returning with his own blanket, and curled up on a chair in the corner. Looking over at his friends, he cuddled into the chair and pulled a corner of the blanket up to his face in a light embrace.

It was the best birthday ever.


	2. Hoops

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. And these short stories are not meant to be great, they're just meant to be fluff. Whatever I'm thinking in passing.

I think a 15-minute pattern is emerging here. So I give you another quickie. My brain is producing fluff, while my mind is getting around having lost a great deal of chapter 13 from Perfection of 02 in a computer meltdown. Oh well. I forage on.

Also, I'm not proof-reading this stuff, so if you find something off, be kind and tell me. When I'm writing a longer fic I get lazy with shorter ones.

Title: Hoops

By: Maxwell-Yuy

Just as his gaze fell towards Duo's open office door, the phone rang and the braided boy's desk did a peculiar jump. A hand shot up from underneath and searched around the table, batting in different directions until it reached the handset and dragged the receiver under. By this time, Heero was standing in the doorway, leaning on the frame with a bemused smirk.

"Maxwell here." There was a pause and the desk shook a little. "I know! I'm just about finished, Commander. Yes." Another slight pause. "Yes!" The desk chair rolled back and hit the wall. "Oh, come on! You can't be - erm, sorry. Yes."

Heero chuckled. And listened more carefully.

"Okay, it'll be on your desk by 4:00. Then I'm outta here."

The blue eyed Preventer crossed his legs and took a look at his wristwatch with raised eyebrows. The voice under the desk suddenly sounded horrified. "It's already four?! Shit. Argh, sorry. I'll watch my language and I'll have it on your desk before I leave. Okay, thanks Commander."

He kept his ground as the hand shot up from under the desk again, slamming the receiver twice before hitting the target console. A crown of chestnut brown peaked out from under the desk, and turned to reveal two violet gems. The eyes widened. "Heero!"

Duo scrambled his way from under his desk and stood to face his friend. "How's it going?"

Heero gave him a once-over and noted his wrinkled uniform and messy braid. "Apparently better than you."

For a moment, Duo looked confused. "Oh!" He looked down at himself and patted the wisps of hair that had gotten loose from his braid back into place while trying to smooth out his shirt, though none of it helped his appearance. He spoke quickly without looking up. "I've just been swamped with paperwork and I dropped my files right after I finished and I need to sort it all out immediately and hand it to Une, and it's been a really long day. I mean," his head shot up and his eyes met Heero's, "you know how it goes."

Smiling and shaking his head, Heero looked to the floor and then back to Duo, cocking his head to the side. "You need a break. Have you even had a day off in the last few weeks?"

Duo thought for a second. "No, I'm pretty sure Une's kept me locked down in desk work since the Anderson-Bher case."

Heero knew he was referencing a huge case assigned nearly two months ago, given to Duo the morning after all the ex-pilots woke up in his living room after a botched birthday celebration for the youngest of the group. Heero's lips formed a tight line and Duo could easily see his unhappiness.

"I've been remiss in my duties, then."

Duo faltered as he began organizing the pile of papers he collected from under his desk. "Huh?"

"You've been stuck working. As your friend I should have gotten you to take some time off. Perhaps utilize the basketball court in the downstairs gym for a game after hours or during lunch - which you seem to be missing lately."

Still riffling through papers, Duo didn't bother to look up. "Well, I've been busy. Work doesn't wait for food."

Heero stared at him in silence until he was almost done sorting papers. If it wasn't for the distinct feeling of his friend's presence, he'd have thought Heero had left.

"I'm sorry for standing you up on your birthday."

Violet eyes jerked up at cobalt blue. "What? Are you still on that? It's over man, it's nothing." Still, he found himself suppressing a smile.

"I know. But I keep my appointments. And I never apologized."

This time, he did smile. "Well thanks, 'Ro."

Looking down, he noticed his paperwork was all set to go to Une. Heero had been standing in his office doorway for thirty minutes. That was just like Heero: to be there for him without making a big deal of it.

"Duo, you up for shooting hoops?"

"Huh?"

"I don't have to go home yet. How about some one-on-one? Maybe pizza after. I know how hungry you get after basketball."

Violet eyes smiled and Duo forgot how tiring his day had been. "Sure thing, 'Ro. I'll meet you downstairs."

"I can wait."

"No, go ahead. I'll meet you."

Juggling the files along with his keys and bag, he shuffled out of his office, trusting Heero knew to lock the door before closing it. He took a little longer than expected, running into Une on his way out and explaining the delay with his work. He was worried Heero might be annoyed with his tardiness, having wasted 15 minutes apologizing to Une. Heero was a good guy, but he was very into punctuality. He hurried down the hall and made a turn for the elevator.

When he looked up, Heero was waiting for him with a smile.


	3. Timing

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. And these short stories are not meant to be great, they're just meant to be fluff. Whatever I'm thinking in passing.

Woo! 25-minute story: Yet another quickie.

Title: Timing

By: Maxwell-Yuy

Duo didn't like routines. In his training, as well as on the streets, he learned that developing routines meant that people could track you - and old habits die hard. But that didn't mean rituals couldn't have some kind of logic to them. So when his wall calendar told him it was the eleventh, he knew it was a basketball day.

He and Heero had devised a schedule for taking basketball lunch breaks that involved a system of prime numbers with an allowance for non-prime evens. And today was the fifth prime day of an even, prime month - so it was game day. They last played basketball on the sum of the two highest primes of the shortest month of the year, divided by two and factored by three. In other words, they last played ball on the seventh.

Luckily, no one had figured out their system yet. It had been in use for a few months, and they considered switching it up so their obvious pattern wouldn't be noticeable. But they figured that anyone spying on them would think two ex-gundam pilots would use something more complicated, maybe construct an algorithm. Duo had originally suggested just calling each other in the morning, but Heero wanted something he could schedule in advance.

And so it was with all the primes and patterns racing in his head that Duo forgot to reset his clock after a two-day re-con mission three time zones over. After all, nobody's perfect.

When the alarm went off, his day began like usual. Cold floor on his previously warm feet, a hot shower, brushing his teeth, braiding his hair, grabbing a quick breakfast, and rushing out the door. The problem was that through everything, he didn't realize it was far too dark outside. He didn't realize traffic was exceptionally light, or that red lights turned green almost as soon as he stopped at a signal. He didn't realize parking was a breeze at HQ's small Intelligence Office a few miles out of his usual drive. And he certainly didn't notice how many lights were off in the building as he grabbed a data disk with the information he'd collected and headed towards the doors.

But he did notice the metal detectors were off. And the badge scanners were down. And he _really_ noticed the blood trail to the elevators from where the night guards was supposed to be positioned.

Before it all registered in his head, he had his gun in his right hand and his left hand fishing around his pocket. It was a hell of a morning to forget his cell phone. He went to the front desk. The phone lines were down, but the computer was running. People would be getting in to work soon, right? Surely Heero would notice if he was late. He always did.

Making a quick decision, Duo set the computer to ping Heero's work phone. Then he sank into the shadows and made his way to the emergency stairwell.

-------

At seven o'clock sharp, Heero Yuy stepped out of the elevator and into what Duo always called The Pit: the main cubicle area of their floor in the Preventers Headquarters. Ignoring the daily buzz, he steered his way to Wu-Fei's office to drop off a book he'd borrowed. He paused for a moment when a photograph of all the ex-pilots caught his eye. It had to have been Sally's doing, but it was good to see evidence of his friend loosening up.

On his way out the door he noticed an envelope that the new kid in the mail room forgot to take and deliver to the sixth floor. Sighing and silently cursing the kid's incompetence, he decided to do Wu-Fei a favour and deliver it himself.

By the time he returned, having both delivered the envelope and formally complained to the head of the mail room, he made his way to Duo's office. He'd been gone for a few days, and he wanted to say hello and remind him of their pending basketball game.

He knocked. And he knocked again. It was ten past seven, and the baka should have been there. He pulled out a spare key and entered. No one was inside.

Immediately, he felt his hair stand on end in a familiar way. "You're late," he said as he turned to face a tired-looking Duo standing in the doorway. "And you're bloodied!"

Even the Perfect Soldier couldn't mask his surprise. It was only as his friend stared him down that Heero realized the whole floor had stopped to watch.

Closing the door behind him, Duo gave Heero a penetrating death glare. "Where the hell were you, Yuy?"

He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. But by the strength in his partner's voice, he knew his stats were good.

"I asked you a question. Where the hell were you?"

Heero didn't even blink. "When?"

"Three hours ago, when I pinged your desk. Have you even BEEN to your desk?"

"Duo, three hours ago I was sleeping. It was 4:30 in the morning."

Duo was seeing red for a moment, before the colour drained to his cheeks. His next words sounded defeated. "No shit."

"What happened to you?"

"Huh?"

"Duo, you like hell."

"Oh. Yeah." He made his way around Heero and to his desk, speaking in a bored tone. "That would be because I slit two throats, got in a fire-fight, shot three people dead, critically wounded two others - who I then had to detain, and then hauled Johnson and Patterson down to the lobby of Intelligence Office. Great morning."

Heero's only reaction was to turn to look at him and hide a flash of something in his eyes. He spoke like a father reprimanding his child. "Why were you slashing throats, shooting people, and hauling bodies at 4:30 in the morning?"

Laughter filled the room. Duo couldn't help it - it was pouring out of him. Of all the things for Heero Yuy to say...

Heero was inwardly pleased. Apparently Duo's humor wasn't too hard to pick up.

"Listen 'Ro, it's a long story." Duo seemed to think he gave enough of an answer, but Heero wouldn't leave it there.

He stared at tired violet eyes for a moment. "Tell me at lunch?"

A smile crept on Duo's face. "Deal."

"And I trust you're okay. You've gone to the Infirmary, and that blood," he gestured towards his partner, "is not yours." It wasn't a question.

"Yes and no." Heero shot him a Look. "I'm fine, but I got grazed by a bullet," the American pointed to his arm, "so I'm heading down there to see if Sally will sew me up."

Heero half smiled. "Anything to be awarded a handicap in our game this afternoon, ne?"

Duo grinned broadly and shook his head.


	4. Open Doors

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. And these short stories are not meant to be great, they're just meant to be fluff. Whatever I'm thinking in passing.

Here's another quick one. Just a 20-minute something-or-other.

Title: Doors

By: Maxwell-Yuy

Falling into his chair, Heero plopped his elbows on his desk and leaned forward, rubbing his eyes with a big sigh. It was one o'clock in the morning, and he'd just gotten back in town from a particularly draining week-long mission. During the war he certainly would not have let something like that get to him, but in times of peace it was hard to see kids involved in arms manufacturing. He'd hoped winning the war would have stopped bad men from stealing the childhoods of innocent kids. But nothing is that simple.

He didn't even want to move. The dull ache creeping over his body reminded him that sleep was not something he could ignore forever - no matter how much his old habits of avoiding it were pushing him to stay awake just a little longer. He wasn't in shape to get paperwork done. Mission reports danced lazily in his head and made him want to scream. He needed sleep. Why didn't he want to sleep?

A nock on his open door sent him jerking back to reality.

"Hey there, buddy."

Heero blinked slowly to regain focus. Were his eyes tricking him? What in the Earth Sphere could possess Duo Maxwell to be at the office at this late hour?

"I uh, knew you were coming in tonight. Tracked your flight. Knew Une would have arranged for your ride back to HQ, so..." Duo was grinning softly, reaching for the end of his braid and twirling it around his fingers. "Anyway, I figured you could use a ride home. You look pretty... worn."

They stayed with their eyes locked for a bit. Sleep was starting to seem like a possibility. Looking at Duo, he nonchalantly realized that whatever was holding him back from rest was disappearing upon the sight of that braided baka. He dropped his gaze and slouched in his chair with another sigh, and looked down at the papers on his desk.

"Those are for tomorrow."

Heero looked up, and Duo could see that if his partner had any energy left he'd have raised an eyebrow in question.

"That's the detail work. The preliminaries I already processed and sent to Une." He could tell Heero's brain was slow in processing the information by the look on the other's face. "I know it was your assignment, but you kept me well informed and I knew the dates, times, happenings... you know, the preliminary stuff. Enough to get the ball rolling."

At his desk, Heero began to look like he understood Duo's words. Duo was telling him he could go home. Back to his apartment. And his bed. And a restful sleep knowing he'd gotten back and seen, if not talked, to his backup – because no matter what, Duo was always looking out for him.

"So yeah. Une said with the paperwork that's already been submitted, your full report's not due until Wednesday night. And seein' how it's a crazy early hour on Tuesday, you should go home and get some rest."

A ghost of a smile crossed Heero's lips. The idea of sleeping in his bed was giving him something wonderful to look forward to in the immediate future. Ever since the war ended he found little things, like preferring his own bed to any other, to be amusing. It made him feel briefly normal.

He glanced around his desk and slowly stood up. It was then he noticed the object in the hand Duo wasn't using to toy with his braid. He looked at the silver object, and then up at Duo.

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry about that. This is for you." The American took a step forward and gently placed a small thermos in Heero's hands. The warmth of his touch was reassuring, and it lingered on the outside of the metal container. "I know you've gotta be hungry from the trip, but I didn't think you'd want to be eating anything before bed, so I brought some chicken and vegetable broth. Warm, liquid, and nourishing!" The last bit was said with jest. Heero once described broth the same way during the war, but back then it earned him a laughing partner-in-crime and an introduction to "real soup."

On the way to the elevators, Heero held onto the thermos like it was a life preserver. Once inside, he popped the lid and took a sip. The hot liquid soothed his throat and awakened the stomach he'd previously ignored in favour of not eating in-flight food.

Two floors from the lobby, Duo retrieved his keys. Heero took one more sip, held the thermos level with his chest, and looked at Duo in a manner purposeful enough that the long-haired Preventer couldn't ignore him.

"Heero?"

The elevator dinged and came to a stop. The doors always had a delay.

Heero smiled softly. "You're my best friend, you know?"

The doors opened. And Heero walked through.


End file.
